Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 15—part 2

Fall Term

First Care of Magical Creatures class today and, lo and behold, the great giant oaf is not teaching it! Fantastic! Maybe I won’t have to worry about getting mauled by a giant half-bird creature or stung by and illegal blast-ended scorpion monster this year.

…I didn’t think I’d ever say anything like that, to be honest. Just goes to show what contempt Dumbledore has for student safety, assigning that creature to be our teacher.

Potter didn’t seem to agree with me. He started questioning Professor Grubbly-Plank incessantly to try and get information on Hagrid’s whereabouts. Honestly, she’s just the replacement teacher, it’s not as though she’s all knowing! This isn’t Divination she’s teaching.

He can be such a fool sometimes.

She brushed him off and then I was left to play with his head. I love doing that. He makes it so easy too. He’s so expressive with his face that it’s almost a wonder that he has any secrets at all.

Anyway, with a coy little smirk I suggested that perhaps the oaf had gotten hurt trying to deal with things that were too big for him. It was a clever little play on his being a giant, because I’m quick like that, and Potter just doesn’t know how to take a joke.

He stared at me with an angry kind of confusion. It was similar to the looks that the Slytherins give me when they think I know something that they don’t, but with frustration behind it. Why does everyone assume that I know everything about everyone if something bad is involved??

Not that I mind being thought of as “in the know”. I like to think I’m more aware of the world than Potter is, but sometimes it grates on my nerves that no one ever thinks I’d know anything related to positive information.

No no, I don’t know how to HEAL the animal; I only know how to KILL it. Or torture it further.

Yes I’m fantastically informed on the subject of torture, what with my having to go through it every single damn day with Potter around.

Anyway, even if I did know something useful, it’s not likely that he would listen to me. He hates taking my advice on anything, despite that I’ve been so kind to offer it before. At least I’m a Prefect now so he can’t talk back to me.

Well he can, but he will just have to suffer the consequences.

……

A thought just occurred in my mind at those words and it’s making me greatly question my sanity again…

I should go to the library and find a book on these matters…maybe there’s something in the Muggle Studies section that could help me deal with my…dementia.

Yes, that’s what I’ll call it. My hallucinations. Perfect, I’ll make myself sound crazy rather than admit that I might be in love with a boy.

WAIT WAIT NO I DIDN’T MEAN THAT.

DAMN IT.

I’ve got to find a cure for this.

******

Invisible Ink

I really should find a better alternative to ridding myself of the thoughts I have of Potter than using the Cruciatus curse on myself. I do it in the showers when the doors are locked and then when I come out people start to wonder. I leave the shower shaking uncontrollably and I’ve done something worse than that now… I’ve overdone it and my damn arm started bleeding again… Yeah that old wounds from third year. You think I’m mad but I told you they never healed.

My nurse warned me that the wounds would reopen if I stress them too much. She gave me potions to take to keep my blood flow steady but she couldn’t do anything about the thin cuts. She said that she doesn’t know why they do that, but she doesn’t know how to fix it. Madam Pomfrey didn’t either, I told her, and she said that she didn’t trust the people assigned to work at that ‘wretched school’ because that’s where I got hurt to begin with.

Anyway, this isn’t the point… I’ve… I’ve stopped cursing myself and the bloody dreams have returned… except that they’re much, much worse now. I…I don’t even know how, but they seem so much more realistic.

I was out on the grounds alone. I was walking across the grass aimlessly when I noticed that Potter was standing outside Hagrid’s hut, banging on the door and calling for him. He was alone too and he sounded so desperate.

I walked over to him and stood behind him for a moment while he continued to knock fruitlessly at the huge wooden door. He had this frustrated, wounded look as though Hagrid was his last chance for something. It was kind of cute, with his brows furrowed and his eyes calling out in pleading…

“He’s not there,” I said quietly. He jumped at hearing a voice and turned to me. He had that same frustrated confusion written all over his features when he saw me.

“Really, now? Thanks for that,” he snapped, cocking his head to the side. I don’t know why but I couldn’t help myself; I laughed.

He didn’t seem surprised by that either. He just smirked at me and licked his lips. My eyes followed his tongue as it parted his lips just enough to poke through. His eyes flashed at me, a brilliant kind of mischief and he stepped closer with a sly smirk that I don’t think I’ve ever seen him give.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Stalking me?” he asked as though he already knew the answer. “What do you want from me, Big Bad Slytherin Draco Malfoy?”

And then I think I totally forsook any kind of morals or self-control that I might have had. Somehow those words just tore right through me and made me flush with heat. I could feel it even in my sleep. I betrayed myself and smiled mischievously at him, then pushed him up against the door, holding his arms over his head.

“Does this make it any clearer?” I hissed, running my tongue along the line of his jaw. He looked up at me, his face indescribable, his eyes half-lidded and dark.

“Then take it,” he whispered. I didn’t think at all. If I had taken a moment to think I might have realized that the whole idea was bad, bad, bad. Terrible. Not right. Can’t do that.

But this is my dream-land and, as I know well, nothing there is logical or good.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, pushing my tongue roughly into his mouth to taste him. He didn’t fight back, he didn’t stop me. He just opened his mouth wantonly and let me have my fun. I shifted and stepped into him, pressing myself flush against his body.

I could feel the warmth of him as I pinned him against the wall, still consuming his mouth with my own. Then I pulled my hands down his arms, not letting them go, but feeling every hint of his muscles through the shirt until I got down to his waist and forced his hips to angle into mine.

He immediately brought his hands down and around my neck, thrusting his fingers into my hair and grabbing fistfuls to pull me harder into him.

I… I grew….harder…just at that.

He pulled and pressed against me, feeling the movement of his body against mine as we kissed. I didn’t want to let go of him. I didn’t want to stop touching him, so I snaked my fingers under his shirt and my fingertips found his soft skin, hot and musky just from the movement of my hips against his.

He brought one hand down and followed my lead, running it up my shirt to feel my flesh and cause me to shiver. I moaned very softly and I hope to god that I didn’t actually make that sound in my sleep.

But I did moan, and I don’t know why but that made me slide my hands under the waist of his pants to feel everything I could below the waist. And…

“Ah, Draco…” he moaned into the kiss as I touched him and then it just happened!

I just… finished. Right then and there and woke up with a start. I was shaking and felt as though my entire body was on fire. I was covered in my own mess and I groaned angrily into the quiet air.

I fisted my own hair and tugged, leaning on my knees and shutting my eyes, trying to get that image and that SOUND out of my head.

I can’t do this!! I can’t dream things like that! Things so… amazing… just the feel and the taste and the sound…

NO I CAN’T DO THIS! It’s not right!!

Why can’t I even trust my own MIND to know what’s best for me??

I hate him for doing this to me…

*******

I found out that Weasel was made Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. That made my week because it’s just going to make distracting the team that much easier.

So, being the wonderfully thoughtful person that I am, I went down to watch their Quidditch practice so that I could welcome him adequately to the sport.

I’ve been needing to let off some steam on someone recently anyway… what with the…night time happenings….and everything.

So we went down and watched for a while until I couldn’t hold in my thoughts anymore. Weasel was just… terrible! He couldn’t catch a Quaffle if it fell into his hands! I couldn’t help myself. I made some comments. What were they all?

I can’t be bothered to remember, but the point was, they were sufficiently cruel that the whole team was thrown off. Or maybe that was just Weasel’s fault. Either way, I’m pleased. Potter looked as though he was about to come and kill me when it was all over.

One of their chasers got hit in the face (Weasel’s fault) and then the twin Weasels gave her some candy that practically made her pass-out from the blood loss. Honestly, there is NO better entertainment than the Gryffindors.

None.

I was laughing so hard that I almost missed the bandage on the back of Potter’s hand. I stopped for a moment and stared at it as he walked away, wondering what it could be.

Who hurts themselves on the back of their hand?? That has got to be the strangest place in the world to get a cut, unless you purposely stab yourself.

Or unless Weasel is just as uncoordinated with a fork as he is with the Quaffle.

I have to admit, it confused me. I’m bothered by things I can’t properly explain. Perhaps it’s a kind of Granger thing to say, but I’d like to think that I was that way first…

I don’t know when she was born, but I was a wizard before she was a witch either way.

What am I saying? She’s not even a proper witch.

Mudblood, remember? Yes.

Anyway, I left the pitch with my friends and went off to diner but that damn hand thing is still bothering me. Where did he get that? And why?? Was it really that bad that he needed it to be bandaged??

I found myself thinking that if I ever found out who hurt him like that that I would have words with them. Well chosen words. Like ‘Crucio’, for one.

Then I kicked myself and remembered that I wasn’t allowed to use that curse on myself anymore so I should stop thinking things that would force me to.

I’m usually very good at overcoming little bad habits. It comes easily to me usually.

But there’s just something about Potter… he’s so hard to quit.

Bloody hell, I disgust myself.

*******

Invisible Ink

I found out that Potter has had detentions all week long with Umbridge and that he’s had many before. Apparently he can’t keep his mouth shut in Defense Against the Dark Arts and has been shooting off about how You-Know-Who is back and Cedric Diggory was murdered.

Alright, he’s been called a liar when he’s been telling the truth, I can understand his need to try and rectify this problem. But you would THINK that he would be SMART enough to realize that after the first set of detentions with the evil pink fairy, perhaps he should just shut up about it and let her get what’s coming to her.

You would think.

But Potter isn’t really that quick a lot of the time.

In any case, I decided to go pay him a visit after one of his detentions. I’m a prefect, after all, I can walk around the school at late hours and have no one think twice about it. Funny that, isn’t it?

No one think that I’m up to something late at night alone in the corridors….being a prefect does have its perks.

Anyway, I waited for him just down the hall from Umbridge’s office on Friday night and caught him just as he turned the corner. The first thing I noticed was that his hand was bleeding lightly and there were words hidden amidst the blood. I couldn’t make them out at first, I didn’t have time.

“What are you doing, Potter?” I asked, quite redundantly. But I couldn’t make it look like I was stalking him. He snapped out of his stupor and stared at me for a moment before rolling his eyes and trying to go on his way.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” he snapped, continuing down the hall. I followed him, frowning.

“That’s no way to address your superior, Potter,” I sneered, forcing him to stop. He turned and glared at me.

“You are not my superior,” he spat, giving me that signature brooding glare of his. “And you never will be.”

“You are free to keep dreaming, Potty,” I drawled, cocking my head to the side with a smirk. “But I am a prefect and I do have a right to know why you are walking around after hours.” He glared at me. He clenched his jaw and I could see that muscle in his cheek tense.

“I’ve had detention,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Are you happy now? Is that reason enough?”

“Not really.” I knew I was pushing it. I knew he would lash out at me soon but being alone in a hallway with him was pushing me past my comfort zone, forcing me to lose control.

“What do you want from me, Malfoy?” he asked. His voice was ripe with something I hadn’t heard but it was his eyes that caught me off-guard. His words echoed in my head from the dream and his eyes were dark and flat like they had been against the door of Hagrid’s hut.

I honestly don’t know what the hell I was thinking but then I did it. I did it and it was terrible and it was bad and it was possibly the stupidest thing I have ever done.

No… no it was DEFINITELY the stupidest thing I have ever done.

I… I leaned in and kissed him, very quickly and just long enough to get a taste of his lips on my tongue before I pulled away and realized in shock and horror that I had just betrayed myself.

He just stood there, motionless and wide-eyed. The look on his face told me that he couldn’t understand for the life of him what had just happened and was wondering if it hadn’t been a dream.

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t let my face show how I felt. I stared at him with no emotion whatsoever and just turned and left.

I……I kissed him and ran…. No I didn’t run, but that’s essentially what it was like.

I can’t believe I did that.

What the hell did I do that for??

This cannot be real…there has to be something wrong. This has got to be some kind of nightmare…it has to!

I just… his eyes were just like in the dream and his words…and his taste…

And he looked at me like he wanted to think it had never happened…he just…stared…

Nothing…

DAMN IT WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

What if he tells the school now?? What if… oh god I…

I don’t know what to do.

What have I done??

-------IIIII-------

A/N: OK, so LOOKIT an ADDED PART! *points* I real one too! Ok, there is a reason I added it there though, and it will become painfully obvious in the next chapter. I said I wouldn’t add in parts that seemed terribly out of place or unbelievable and by the next chapter, you’ll understand why this is not as far-fetched as it sounds. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Draco’s dreams getting worse and he’s actually acting them out! EEP haha Don’t kill me! Oh, and for time reference, this kiss would have actually happened BEFORE Harry’s first kiss with Cho. So, technically, Draco stole Harry’s first kiss. Bahah. Aren’t I evil? Yes ok.

Reviews are VERY, VERY IMPORTANT for this chapter, because as I’m going to be adding in more parts like this, I NEED TO KNOW how you feel about them! I mean, if you didn’t like this one, you are DEFINITELY not going to like what I have in store for the sixth book ahaha *flush red* Anyway, PLEASE give me your thoughts!!
REVIEWS FOR LOVE AND COOKIES! Maybe even some cupcakes hahah